


Thoughts of A Dumb Brunette

by JustARatherVerySillyWriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25951606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustARatherVerySillyWriter/pseuds/JustARatherVerySillyWriter
Summary: This will be a collection of my stories from the competitions I've been involved in over the years as I edit them. I'm posting them all in the same story, it's easier for me that way.
Relationships: Andromeda Black Tonks/Ted Tonks, Angelina Johnson/Fred Weasley, Audrey Weasley/Percy Weasley, Hannah Abbott/Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Penelope Clearwater/Percy Weasley, The Bloody Baron/Helena Ravenclaw, Tina Goldstein/Newt Scamander, Various/Original Character
Kudos: 3





	1. What's Goin' On People?

Hey to both past and future writers! I'm writing this to kind of give an introduction into what's happening here. So, I started writing fanfiction several years ago, and much of my early work was quite bad, so I'm going to go through all my fics and reposting them over the next several weeks. There will likely be a couple of stories every day, and I have at least a hundred stories from the first time I wrote onward. I'll have a couple different stories, this is just the very first one, with exclusively HP related stories. Enjoy the stories to come, the first one shouldn't be too long from now.

Enjoy!  
Hope


	2. Broken Bottles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is caught in Malfoy Manor, but Lucius Malfoy helps her escape.

What’d I tell you guys! Here’s the first edited story. This was originally written for Season 5 of Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, and the prompt was to write a NOTP of a teammate, and as you can tell, I was given Lucius/Hermione. I hope you like the changes I make, if you ended up reading the original version.

Hermione stood alone in the parlor of Malfoy Manor, scared out of her mind. She was actually surrounded by quite a few people, but none of them wished her any good. Seconds ago, Harry and Ron had been dragged down to the dungeons, and she could still hear Ron’s bellows of, “HERMIONE!”  
Hermione steeled herself for what was going to happen next. She knew what was coming, of course. With Bellatrix present, nothing else could await her. She would endure this at her, fury evident in her heavy-lidded expression.   
Also in the room were the Malfoys. She chanced a glance at them, barely taking her eyes from Bellatrix. Narcissa and Draco almost seemed to be sick to their stomachs. However, it was the older Malfoy that caught her attention for a moment longer. He seemed almost… upset? About her being about to be tortured? She resisted the urge to shake her head. That couldn’t be right. The Malfoys hated anyone not of pure blood, and that included her.   
“This sword belongs in my vault,” Bellatrix said, giving the appearance of calm. Only her eyes belied her. “I know you were there. What else did you take?”  
This took Hermione aback for a moment, but she replied, with as steady a voice as she could muster, “I didn’t take that from your vault. It’s a replica.”  
With a slap and a shout that was a half screech of “LIAR!”, Hermione found herself lying sprawled on the floor. In a moment, Bellatrix was on top of her, pinning her down.   
Hermione could hear her heart pounding, and she was sure Bellatrix could as well. She had no idea how she was going to make it out of this with Harry and Ron.  
It took a moment for Hermione to notice that Bellatrix now held a small silver dagger. Before she could say anything else, Bellatrix began digging the tip of the blade into the smooth skin of her forearm. It took a minute, an agony filled minute filled with her screams echoing in the room—and in the distance Ron shouting her name, knowing he could do nothing for her —for Bellatrix to finish.  
Her arm burned, but Hermione could feel the word carved onto her skin: MUDBLOOD. This was all she was to these monsters parading around in human skin, and she was proud of it. She glanced at her bloodied arm from the corner of her eye, tracing the crimson rivulets running down her skin and leaving a macabre painting in their wake, and she swore to herself she wouldn't break. She wouldn’t give in to them, she couldn’t.  
“Bella, that is enough,” Malfoy called to Bellatrix, breaking Hermione out of her thoughts. “Allow me to take care of the girl. I will dispose of her, and then we can bring the two boys back for questioning.”  
His words seemed so logical to her, she would have sneered in disgust if she could. How could these people speak about disposing of a person with such ease? Even after such a long time, she still couldn’t understand them.  
She must have zoned out, because next thing she knew, sure arms were lifting her up and carrying her… somewhere. Was this it? Was she being carried so gently to her death? She heard the creak of a door opening and felt the cool breeze from outside.  
“Are… are you going to kill me?” Hermione managed to say as she felt them come to a stop.  
“No,” Malfoy said, slowly letting her down from his arms.   
She was unsteady on her feet, but Malfoy gripped her wrist until she was able to stand fairly still.  
Malfoy took something small out of his pocket. Hermione couldn’t tell what it was, but it looked like a small trinket. A shard of glass maybe?   
“Portus,” he murmured.  
The Portkey spell? Hermione’s brain was working hard to catch up.   
“Wait, what’s going on? Are you just letting me go?”  
“Yes,” Malfoy calmly said, turning to her. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything sooner than I did. I just couldn’t let her kill you like that. Either she would have done it or she’d have given you to Greyback if I hadn’t said something. I couldn’t let that happen.”  
“But… hold on.” Hermione shook her head, sure she must have been imagining things. “Why?” She didn’t think this could be possible, but she wanted to know where this was going.  
Malfoy was quiet for a moment.   
“Because…” Malfoy sighed, closing his eyes. “Ever since you were young, Draco has told me everything about you. I believe he might have had a small infatuation with you. That or he was jealous of how brilliant you are. He told me so many stories, and I couldn’t help but find myself enchanted by the image he painted of you. Such a brilliant mind in one so young.”  
Hermione’s head still hadn’t stopped spinning, and this sent it further along.   
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Hermione was incredulous. This man, who she’d imagined despised her, actually loved her. It made no sense.  
With a deep breath, Malfoy said, “Indeed. I might have become infatuated, much to my consternation. You were far too young, you still are. As you grew older, my infatuation grew as well. I believe it grew into love when I saw you swinging on a tire swing just before you left school the summer of your fifth year. You knew the Dark Lord was back, and yet in that moment, you seemed to not have a care in the world. That moment is what cemented it for me. Now, I am over the moon that I have had the chance to tell you my feelings. I expect nothing in return. I simply want you safe.”  
Hermione was speechless. She didn’t know what to say to his confession. It couldn’t be real, but the intensity in his tone brought her up short.  
“Go,” he said as the silence got longer. “They will not wait much longer. The Portkey will take you wherever you desire to go.”  
“Will you help Harry and Ron?” she asked. “I’m not going to leave unless they’re going to be safe as well.  
“I will try, for you,” he said. “But I think they will be able to escape on their own. They are quite resourceful when they need to be.”  
Hermione was still unconvinced. “How do I know all of this is real? How can I trust you’ll make sure Harry and Ron get out safely?”  
Looking back at him for a moment, she grabbed the neck of a broken wine bottle, which sent her spinning through the air to her next destination. She needed to get free. She could deal with whatever Lucius felt for her another day.


	3. Checking In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor Krum has to decide what he will do when faced with the government's suppression of Voldemort's return.

**Here’s the second story I’m editing. Also written for Season 5 of QL, but for round 2. We had to use a given setting in our story this time, so I was given Durmstrang Institute. I hope you enjoy this. Edits for this one were mostly spelling and grammar related, as well as general formatting. I’ve also renamed the story, originally called Coming To Terms.**

**EXTRA NOTE: Probably should’ve mentioned it the first time I posted it, but if you prefer the usual brooding, Quidditch-focused Krum, you won’t find him here. He’s got a bit of a brain in this story :)**   


Viktor Krum stared as he saw the castle of Durmstrang Institute loom darkly ahead of the ship. He was the main “captain” of the ship, and most of his classmates had assumed he would be leading them back to their home, which he had done with little complaint. He was a famous Quidditch player, which made others see him as a leader in their school. Of course he would be leading them, he thought rationally.

However, part of him couldn’t help feeling a bit of resentment at this reasoning on the part of his comrades. After being controlled so easily by Crouch Jr. at the Triwizard final, he felt unworthy to be any kind of leader, much less of all the students of his school who had nothing to do with this.

Viktor said nothing as he continued watching the castle, coming ever closer. The dock was deserted as it was very late. He had assumed they would be asleep, so it wasn’t a surprise.

“Be quiet as we enter,” Viktor warned his fellow students as they pulled up to the dock and began to disembark. “It’s late, everyone is asleep.”

No one said anything, and the fifteen of them headed back into the castle and to the sleeping quarters

Viktor lay awake in his bed for a while, his brain continuing to buzz with thoughts of the events of the final task of the Triwizard Tournament. It was a great disappointment that he had been bested by a fourteen year old boy, but he also felt very guilty. He had caused the Beauxbatons contestant, Fleur Delacour, to be taken out of the competition completely. Then he had used the Cruciatus Curse on the older Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory, and was then taken out of the competition himself. He felt responsible, albeit in a small way, for how it ended up.

Of course, he told himself scoldingly, he had no reason to feel sorry for himself. Compared to Harry Potter, he had gotten off relatively unscathed. Potter had been through so much in his life,this was just another tragedy that the young teen had to endure. Compared to him, Viktor felt like he had no right to feel sorry for himself.

Eventually, his mind settled down, and he fell into a restless sleep.

All the students gathered up in the mess hall for breakfast the next morning, Viktor among them, and they were all glancing at the man sitting in the Headmaster’s chair. Viktor was surprised at how quickly the school governors had hired a new one. He had half expected for them to wait and see if Karkaroff would return in the next few days or not.

“Who is our new headmaster?” Viktor asked his neighbor, a sixth year girl named Britta.

“Aalto Hansen,” she answered, examining the Headmaster with a critical eye. “The Ministry hired him last week. Everyone was very surprised that they got such a quick replacement.”

Viktor said nothing as he watched the new Head. The man seemed young, no older than mid-thirties. He had very curly blond hair, dark grey eyes that were examining all his students, and a neatly trimmed beard.

Viktor’s attention was taken from the new headmaster, as the post owls flew in. He was surprised when one landed in front of him; he had not been expecting any letters.. However, the snowy white owl was familiar to him, he had only seen one like it before. Potter’s owl held out its leg, releasing a soft bark.

Viktor took the letter and fed the owl a piece of toast, before opening it.

_ Dear Viktor, _

_ I had Hedwig time this letter with your arrival back at school. I thought you might need a little encouragement after your travels. _

_ First, how are you? I never got a chance to ask you before you left. I'm sorry about that, but as you know, things have been hectic this last week. I'm sure you're feeling awful about everything that happened, but you needn't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault that Crouch Jr. put an Unforgivable Curse on you. Many older wizards are unable to resist the Imperius Curse. _

_ Second, I wanted to hear your thoughts on something, and I hope you can help. You might not know this, but our Ministry is attempting to deny that You-Know-Who has returned.The night of the third task, Fudge blatantly admitted that he thinks Dumbledore and Harry are raving lunatics, or else trying to supplant him and make Dumbledore Minister. I just want to know your thoughts on the matter. _

_ Please write back soon. I hope your last days of school are going okay. _

_ Love from, _

_ Hermione. _

__

Viktor read the letter a couple of times, before a cough from behind him caught his attention. Viktor looked up to see the new Head, Aalto Hansen, behind him.

“Viktor, my boy,” he said, holding his hand out jovially for Viktor to shake. Viktor did so, though a little reluctantly. “I would like to have a private word in my office, if you wouldn't mind?”

Saying nothing, Viktor stood up and followed Hansen through the bright, sunlit corridors to the Headmaster's office. When they entered the office, Hansen gestured for Viktor to sit, which he did, and Hansen sat across from him.

“Well, Viktor, I am glad to be meeting you at last,” Hansen began. “I just wanted to have a chat about what has happened recently, and to check how you are doing.”

“I am fine,” Viktor replied, with an almost inaudible sigh. It wasn't very convincing, even to himself.

“Indeed,” Hansen said, observing Viktor skeptically. “Well, as you know, I have been recently appointed to this position after the… ah… previous headmaster-”

“He ran away,” Viktor interrupted. “He was cowardly, and ran when he felt his Dark Mark burn. I know that, so don't try to make it seem better than it was.”

Hansen’s eyes widened, before he quickly schooled his expression again. “Yes, well, as you no doubt know, I have been appointed by the Ministry. It is our hope that you would want to aid us in quelling these rumours that the British wizard known as You-Know-Who has returned to power.”

Viktor stared at Hansen for a moment, unable to believe his ears. Hermione had told him about this in her country, but now it was here.

“You want me to lie?” Viktor surmised, staring at Hansen. “Because I believe the boy and Albus Dumbledore. In case you hadn't heard, I had the Imperius Curse placed on me. How could I not believe them?”

“What a thing to say,” Hansen said, his eyes widening and face reddening. “Surely you have more allegiance to your country, your  _ school,  _ than to believe a couple of foreign lunatics?”

“If this is how my country will behave, then no,” Victor said simply. “Are we finished here?” He got up to leave, but then Hansen spoke.

“Where are you going, boy?” he demanded.

“I am going home,” Viktor said, making a split decision.

Hansen began to redden again. “If you leave now, you get nothing!” Hansen growled. “I am a very important man. You still have to take your NEWTs this summer, but I can fix it so you will never be able to take them.”

“Is that a threat?” Viktor asked, eyes raised. Hansen did not speak, but sat getting redder. Viktor took that as goodbye, and left the room.

Viktor headed up to the owlery, and briefly penned a letter to Hermione.

_ Hermione, _

_ Thank you. Your letter has given me a bit of a brightness in these times. I am doing well. I have been thinking about the events of the task a lot. I even dream about them. I don't know if I'll ever be as certain as you are of my innocence. I am supposed to be a powerful wizard, and to be under his control like that… you have no idea. Nevertheless, you have given me a little reassurance about it all. _

_ As for the rest, I do have some thoughts on the matter. Fudge has always seemed to me to be a little bit of a bumbling idiot. Excuse it, but that's what I think. Also, I think he's scared that if he admits it, he'll lose his power. Basically, his thoughts are probably: ignore it and it will go away. _

_ There's a quote that I got reminded of when you wrote. It's by Nathaniel Branden. He said, “Freedom is still the most radical idea of all.” With that, here's some advice: you'll have to do something radical to get people to see that they are wrong. But please be safe, whatever you do. _

_ Let me know what you are doing this summer, and when you would like to visit. _

_ From, _

_ Viktor Krum _

Satisfied with the letter, he sealed it and put it on the leg of a nearby screech owl. The owl nipped him before flying off. Viktor left the owlery, ready to go home.


End file.
